Nobody Likes PDAs
by Porcelain.Ragdoll
Summary: A quick one-shot. Chris didn't remember to bundle up, and Wesker's here to save the day. Warm and happy feelings all around! Wesker/Chris.  I'm no good at summaries.


**I was getting into the holiday mood, and am taking a break from college applications (which are absolutely horrendous, by the way). Hope you like it!**

* * *

><p>"Chris, cut that out."<p>

Wesker was sitting at his desk, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he frowned sternly at Redfield. It was nearing the wintry, Christmas-y days, and everyone was getting restless and excited for the holiday season. There was silver tinsel tacked about almost everywhere, and fake little wreaths hung in every aesthetically appealing area possible. The police department was filled with cheery people, sans one very grumpy S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team Captain Albert Wesker. Unlike the others, he diligently finished his work. Which explained his beautifully tidy desk, as compared to Chris's cluttered and paper-littered table.

The young man in question smiled sheepishly, letting his hand, and the crumpled "snowball" paper, drop limply. Jill stuck her tongue out at Chris and continued her walk to the water cooler. No doubt, she was the target of Chris's deadly projectile. "You never let me have any fun around here."

"Because you're working, or rather," Wesker took up a crumpled ball that had been neglected by Chris, "_not_ working. Get back to your desk, Redfield." The ball was flung, soaring through the air before bouncing off of Chris's forehead with a _ptunk_.

-/-

The chilly night air was dotted with sparse, drifting snowflakes, white and yellow and blue with the street lamps, the cars, the office buildings with their squares of light. Children with their parents and overly-loving couples littered the streets, chattering cheerily. Everyone was bundled up and going some place, except for one very foolish man.

Chris had braved the cold of the chilly winter morning by jogging to work with very little clothing. He immediately regretted it as the weather had changed for the worse. As the work hours neared their end, the others had left before he could finish his papers, leaving him with Captain Wesker as his last resort. Captain Albert Wesker, his knight in shining armour! Wesker couldn't possibly leave his valued pointman, and part-time butt buddy, to freeze to death! After some pleading and desperate promises, Chris's frustrated saviour finally gave in.

"I can give you a ride, Chris. No need to pull that ridiculous pout on me." Wesker rubbed his temples, shoving his sunglasses onto the crest of his hair to get better access to the sides of his head. His blue-ish grey eyes swiveled up to frown at the ecstatic younger man, leaning excessively on his desk. "You don't need to do all those things you promised." He paused, the slightest of smiles dancing on his lips, "Although a back massage and foot rub sound pleasant. Now get out of here. I'll meet you outside in seven minutes."

-/-

Shivering, Chris stood in the entrance of the Raccoon City Police Department, rubbing his arms through the thin fabric of his jacket.

"'Seven minutes,' he says. More like an hour," he grumbled to himself, chattering. He repeatedly entered and exited the building to see if Wesker had come out of the office. The lady at the front desk had become quite annoyed with the irregular bursts of icy-cold air and snow, and forbade Chris from entering again after the sixth time. He was left to his own devices, sitting on a bench outside the department doors, drawing patterns in the snow-covered slats of his seat.

"Christopher, what are you doing? Even though I told you to wait outside, I didn't expect you to sit out here like this." Slightly annoyed, slightly amused, his light Southern British accent came out like a figurative beacon to Chris's ears. Wesker was walking out of the heavy doors, a dark grey, plaid scarf looped around his neck and a black cotton trench coat wrapped around his figure.

"Thank god," Chris muttered under his breath, hopping to his feet and shoving his hands into his pockets. "What took you so long? Reorganizing your papers or something?" He walked alongside Wesker, watching wispy, white puffs of his breath dissipate into the air. His unruly hair had already gathered a few snowflakes.

Wesker scoffed, a sharp exhale blowing away an incoming snowflake. "No, had a quick meeting with Irons. The man doesn't seem to realize that I don't have all the time in the world to listen to him talking nonsense." He cast a glance Chris-ward. The man's ears and nose were red with cold. Rolling his eyes, he took a gloved hand, snaked it around Chris's back, and hugged Chris closer to his side.

Chris blinked a bit of snow from his eyelashes and glanced at the older man. "What's this, getting affectionate in public?"

Wesker snorted. "What, you don't want my warmth? Fine then, freeze, for all I care. We've still a few minutes till we reach my car, so..."

"No, no, it's fine." Chris reached over hastily to hug Wesker closer. He grinned and planted a quick kiss on Wesker's ear, earning a frown from the man, and a few looks from passerby.

"Nobody likes public displays of affection, Chris," Wesker scowled, reaching with his other hand to push his sunglasses up. "I personally find them rude and impolite," he elaborated, as they turned a corner.

-/-

Their steps, freed from the snowy sidewalks, echoed in the chilly, dry parking lot, which was empty save for a few cars and hurrying people. Chris leaned closer to Wesker, staying as close as possible until Wesker pried him off to pull out his car keys. Once he got his door open, Chris eagerly slid into the plush leather seat, and immediately regretted his action as the cold interior made contact with his backside. Scowling, he slammed the door closed and crossed his arms. Wesker slide in with much more grace, closing his door with much less sound. As he started up the car, the heater came on, much to Chris's relief. The headlights came on in bluish beams, illuminating a group of annoyed teenagers chatting by their car.

"So, do you—" Chris's words were interrupted by a still-warm, cashmere scarf to the face. Breathing in, he could smell Wesker, his hair gel, the expensive shampoo he used. It was an overdose of ecstasy as he inhaled deeply, savouring the scent before begrudgingly lifting it off his face to breathe properly. As soon as he removed the soft blindfold, Wesker's mouth landed on his, a barely audible sigh escaping those thin lips. Chris breathed in, leaning eagerly with the touch. The moment, though brief, felt like an eternity, before Wesker broke the kiss. The teenagers jeered at the two, and Wesker gave them a nasty look before shifting the car into reverse, taking a quick glance behind before backing out of the parking spot flawlessly. Chris hastily buckled his seat belt and grinned. "What happened to disliking public displays of affection?"

"Oh, that wasn't public. Those punks are just voyeurs."


End file.
